


Snowflakes

by fors_manus



Series: Dragon Age One-Shots [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, M/M, i'm annoyed at my past self for creating something so ridiculously sappy, it's just fluff, like ridiculous amount of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 20:29:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14221176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fors_manus/pseuds/fors_manus
Summary: Nightmares reunite two companions late one night, and though the weather is chilly, it doesn't stop the two from opening up more to each other





	Snowflakes

“Maker’s breath, Inquisitor!” Mahanon’s ears twitched at the voice behind him, feeling an over-sized surcoat suddenly being placed on his shivering shoulders. “You know you’ll catch your death out here if you’re not careful,” Cullen Rutherford scolded, coming into the side view of the Dalish elf’s silver eyes.

Mahanon smiled gently, “Evening Commander,” he greeted whilst shifting the pauldrons around to fit more comfortably. “You’re not wrong, may I ask why you’re up here at such a late hour?” the blonde asked as he rested his side against the snow-covered rock wall.

“Only if you tell me your reason as well,” Mahanon replied with a smirk. Cullen frowned at the re-directed question, obviously wanting a straight-forward answer to which the Inquisitor mockingly returned, his lips twitching upwards despite his expression.

As the atmosphere shifted, Lavellan’s expression broke as he looked over to the frozen water below, fingers tapping on stone. “I couldn’t sleep… I’ve a…” he cleared his throat, “I’ve been experiencing night terrors every so often, the balcony in my Chambers sometimes helps but I feel more at ease here than anywhere else.”

Honesty. It was something the silver haired elf was still getting used to being despite coming so far in his journey to stop Corypheus. He watched as his Advisor’s face furrowed at his reply, a heavy silence filling the air as the rogue shifted his body to look towards the safety of Skyhold and away from the dangers of the outside world.

Maybe that was the reason as to why he always felt more comfortable standing here. The ability to simply turn from the mountain covered perimeter and stare at what the Inquisition has succeeded in achieving with pure effort and strength was a habit the elf was making more often than usual. But it was only rather recently that he felt more comfortable doing it walking among the cold ramparts than staring from his balcony.

Once among the tall walls, it would take a man only a simple glance to the side to notice any unexpected danger. It might just be an odd defensive nature. That or Mahanon was really missing the large trees he’d usually venture on when traveling with his Clan.

“Although,” Lavellan began speaking again, grabbing the Commanders attention, “Part of the reason is probably because of the snow. When my Clan moved around, we’d try out best to avoid lands which would experience the worst changes because of the cold. Fewer chances of illness and lack of food mainly,” Mahanon rambles.

Reaching out a hand, both men watched as snowflakes landed on the males open palm, melting almost immediately at the touch. “We are properly in the mountains now, my best guess it that you’ll grow tired of it eventually,” Cullen chuckles, looking smug as Lavellan barely fought back the escaped laugh. Retreating the hand back into the surcoat, the Dalish glanced up at the stars as he wrapped the clothing around his thin body.

“True, maybe. Hopefully not though, snow can be rather beautiful at nights like these,” Mahanon mutters, jumping slightly as two arms suddenly circled around him and gently pulled him into Cullen’s chest.

“I guess they can be, but they’re not the only thing,” the blonde mumbles, tucking his face into the others loose silver locks to press a kiss against the elf’s neck.

Smiling, the rogue tilted his head to the side, nuzzling into the warm furs of the coat which brushed against his nose. Feeling fortunate to have received something so pleasant simply because of the thin blue nightwear he decided to wear outside.

It was debatable whether taking in a deep breath of the material was accidental or not, but it was never the less delightful. The scent of old books, ink and armour oil was unmistakable and blended pleasantly to the Dalish’s senses. The after-smell was what made the elf pause in his actions.

Though it was faint, the sharp tang of Lyrium was still very much detectable deep in the furs. Slowly twisting his body around to face the other man, Mahanon raised his sleepy eyes up to meet the others’ deep brown. “And how are you feeling, Cullen?” he faintly asks, making the Inquisitor smile at the Commander’s blink of surprise at the sound of his true name being spoken.

Clearing his throat in a way to straighten himself, Cullen reached a hand up to brush lightly at Mahanon’s cheek to remove a clump of snow, “Reports haven’t been letting up, I have a feeling they’re not going to for a while if you’re always out there helping refugees and battling dragons these days.” Mahanon inwardly snorts at the comment before staring up at the blonde in silence, only blinking once as the other finally sighed in defeat.

“ _I_ have been… all right, head aches come and go and it’s rare when it’s a migraine, but… I’m here for the same reason you are, Inquisitor.” Mahanon’s brow creased immediately, pulling away from the embrace, “You never told me you were having nightmares Cullen,” said man shrugged, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, “I’m sure you have more pressing matters to attend to than worrying after someone like me, Inquisitor.”

“ _Mahanon_ ,” the elf said sharply, “Formalities aren’t needed here, not when we’re alone Cullen, and it’s my choice to be concerned about you, not as the Herald of Andraste, not as the Inquisitor, but as your friend… as your…” Lavellan trailed off, slowly stepping forward and grasping the human’s bare hand with a lowered head.

Oh yes, what was he to Cullen now? A friend? A lover?

It has, after all, only been a few months since the Military Advisor had asked for the presence of the Dalish elf only to remind him of his past rejected intentions back at Haven. To say that Lavellan was surprised when the former Templar shyly opened his feelings to say that he was willing to try out whatever it was between them would have been an understatement.

Mahanon was relieved, there was no doubt about that. Even after Cullen clearly stated he wasn’t looking for a partner back then, the rogue’s heart still longed for the blonde’s even as the long months had passed. It had been slightly awkward between them at first, both fumbling over words when alone or hesitating with actions as if the simplest flicker of a finger would send the other running for the hills. But now they were… something.

Sure, their actions were still minor compared to the stereotypical relationships in one of Varric’s romances, but they were building.

They were trusting. They were loving.

“Forgive me Mahanon,” Cullen murmured, turning over his hand which the other held to intertwine their fingers, rubbing his thumb against the others skin. Mahanon’s face relaxed at the apology, deciding to break into a soft smile to show his gratitude with reddening cheeks.

“Fenedhis!” The Herald hissed out, tugging the pauldrons further into his face as a rush of icy wind passed through them. “No wonder you’re barely ever cold, you’re just hot all the time in this aren’t you?” Cullen burst out a surprised laugh at the slightly toying comment, his face flushing.

Pulling his hand away, the ex-templar outstretched both hands towards the male’s face, fluffing the tufts up affectionately, “Congratulations, you’ve figured out my little secret. What will the others think of me now?” he responded light heartedly.

The archer’s thoughts trailed off, a large lump settling in his throat as he tried to remember the last time someone had been so straight forwardly gentle towards him. Closing his eyes, the elf sighed as he felt Cullen move a strand of his hair behind his ear, “It’s down for once…” the man faintly whispered. “What? Oh! My hair-” the rogue’s eyes snapped open in realization, moving his hand from the coat to the back of his head, feeling snowflakes melt at the touch of his skin and dampen his hair.

“I tend to only have it up during the day or out on expeditions… to keep it out of my face, you know?” Mahanon rambled, looking up to meet Cullen’s brown eyes. “I wouldn’t actually,” the ex-Templar grinned as he caught the Herald in the crossfire of his own words, letting out another genuine laugh at the others sudden blushing cheeks which he attempted to hide.

“It suits you,” the warrior reassured, his grin widening, “You should keep it down more often.” Peeking between his fingers, Mahanon contemplated as he stared at the handsome man, a smile stretching across his face, “For you? I’m sure that could be arranged.”

As Cullen’s arms wrapped once more around the Dalish’s waist to tug him close, causing Lavellan to breathe deeply before curling his own around the others neck, fingers gently threading themselves through the short locks.

Watching silently, Mahanon’s flickered among the others face slowly; taking in how the nearby torch’s light illuminated features which the elf had strongly grown to cherish during their time together. From the sharp but delicious looking scar upon his top lip to the defined facial hair which was trimmed amongst the others strong jaw. His gaze lifted, taking notice of the small freckles which were scattered on his lover’s cheeks, smiling adoringly at them before looking up to the other’s eyes.

Which were fixed firmly upon his.

Barely stifling a laugh, the elf let out a weak, “What’s with that look?” as he shifted his stance under the human’s stare. Cullen let out an enduring sigh of affection and shake of the head before replying, “I must be truly fortunate,” he started, leaning his face closer, “for the Maker to allow me the chance to meet an elf as beautiful as you.” Mahanon spluttered, thumping his head against the warrior’s chest immediately to hide his face, giggles repeatedly racking his body.

Peering up from the soft red shirt Cullen wore, the elf responded teasingly, “On the contrary, ma vhenan, I believe I should feel the luckiest. For I do not believe that there is a single man in all of Thedas which I could adore as much as you.”

The radiated smile which Cullen made was definitely worth the cheesy one-liner. Lavellan grinned back, blinking as snowflakes continued to latch themselves onto the short golden locks the other possessed, producing an almost angelic effect as steam pushed out of pale pink lips.

Slowly, Mahanon placed his right hand to Cullen’s cheek, a mixture of butterflies fluttering in his stomach as a larger one covered his own tightly. Hovering just a touch away from Cullen’s face, he softly brushed his nose against the other’s, watching his brown eyes stare hazily at his own. They’ve never kissed before, not properly at least. There have been times when the both of them were just an inch away from touching each other; breathes caught in their throats as they waited for the other to make the first move.

The closest they’ve ever gotten to one were the simple, shy kisses on the cheek they would give each other if something was exchanged; the first being when a shy Cullen had bashfully handed Mahanon a gift of three stacked books from an author the elf had recently taken a fancy in. It was done without immediate thought, but the tingling feeling on the human’s cheek had refused to disappear along with the small smile he wore for the rest of the day. No matter the amount of teasing’s he received.

Warm gasps of air passed between the couple, dilated iris’ staring at each other in wonder and patience before the taller male finally snapped, pushing Mahanon firmly against the rampart wall and deeply claiming his lips. A gasp of surprised pleasure fled from the elf’s lips, feeling hands crawling up his back as they kissed.

‘ _Mythal, protect me,_ ’ Mahanon though in a daze, his hand which had cradled his lover’s cheek now binding itself to in the locks of golden hair as he tilted his head. The other gripping tightly on the crimson cloth Cullen wore as if to confirm himself that what was happening was truly real. And it was.

When the urge to breathe became too much to bare, both men reluctantly parted, eyes closed and foreheads touching. Letting his hands drift down the blonde’s arms, Mahanon hummed as soft lips pecked his once again.

“I am a fool,” Cullen murmured, making the archer open his eyes to stare at his distant one’s in confusion. “To have hoped so desperately that one day you would still be there for me when I finally understood my feelings towards you… it was too much to ask… and yet here you stand in my arms just as handsome as the day I first met you,” the blonde smiled wistfully, cupping the elf’s face.

“I’ll always be here for you Cullen, and if I was forced to go back and wait for you all over again, I would do it a million times if it meant staying with you,” Mahanon insisted, placing a hard kiss on the warrior’s bare wrist. His lover grinned happily, stars dazzling in his eyes as he dived towards Lavellan’s neck, placing several loud kisses among his skin and chuckling loudly as he heard his beloved shriek in joy at the tickling sensations which his lips created.

Because that, Cullen thought, was a sound he would be happy to hear for the rest of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> When re-reading this for editing, I completely forgot that I had made this an established relationship so imagine my surprise when I thought that this was a pre-relationship only to be mightily proven wrong. Past me was a genius.  
> This can also be a continuation of, 'I Am The One' to those who think this is a sequel  
> Kudos and Comments are appreciated!  
> Thank you for reading!


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